


since there is no me without you

by quantumoddity



Category: Nightrunner Series - Lynn Flewelling
Genre: Comfort Sex, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Nightmares, Trauma, classic night before the wedding stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Even the night before the happiest day of his life, Seregil can't escape the bad dreams.
Relationships: Alec í Amasa/Seregil í Korit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	since there is no me without you

_ He has seen blood before, more than any faie his age should have. But he has seen it, his own and others, staining hands, clothes and blades, its smell familiar to him by now.  _

_ But this blood  _ burns. 

_ It feels as though it's his own heart’s blood as it runs down his fisted fingers, in the gaps between them and down his wrists, the pain is so unbearable. The way it seems to scorch his skin, the sickening, too fast throb of agony inside him, the tension in his throat as he screams endlessly, it could be his own life blood leaking out in a slow, implacable stream.  _

_ And by Aura, he wishes it was.  _

_ But he is whole, though he knows he shouldn’t be, he tried damn hard to change that. Whole but not unbroken. His mind still frantically searches for ways out he knows are hopeless, he can see with his own eyes where the arrows have struck and how deep they’ve sunk, he knows the sharp, cruel slave catchers’ points that are buried deep in the flesh and will shred everything in their path if removed. He knows there is no hope but still his mind searches, only to drive the agony deeper.  _

_ Because there is nothing to be done but cling on as if that will do anything to keep a soul in its place, scream and hurt and watch as his love dies in his arms.  _

_ And to think the whole time  _ it was meant to be me…

“Seregil?”

_ Aura, why couldn’t it have been me… _

“Seregil? Shh, love, shh, it’s all well, it's just a dream…”

_ Alec… _

“Seregil!”

His eyes snapped open but he wasn’t seeing, his hands moving when he hadn’t asked them to. Old screams were caught in his throat, old tears on his cheeks and his heart was hammering so hard he felt he might vomit. All he saw was that Palmarian plain and Alec’s blood staining it’s grass. 

But then a firm hand grabbed his flailing wrist, like taking the collar of a panicking dog and bringing it to heel. And suddenly there was soft skin underneath his fingertips, fine, down like hair and a steady, regular heartbeat that called out to his own. 

“Shh,” Alec murmured, his voice gentle and his face an inch from Seregil’s, “Shh, you were having a nightmare. Just a nightmare, nothing more.”

The room they always slept in at Watermead solidified around him, the darkness became the comforting and cosy variety of a candlelit night. It was a feather stuffed mattress underneath him and soft cotton blankets over his legs, the rest of him bare and covered in drying sweat. He smelled treated oak and fresh hay and beeswax, family and home baked into the air. 

And Alec was holding his hand, pressing it to his own chest, letting his talímenios feel his heartbeat. His nightshirt was rucked up around their entwined fingers, his hair tousled with sleep though his eyes were wide and awake, full of concern. 

“It’s all well,” he murmured, voice raspy, “I’m here and I’m safe. Remember?”

Seregil drew in a shaky breath and nodded, voice trembling as he tried to explain himself, “It just...it only felt so real, I…”

But Alec was already shaking his head over his protestations, seeing nothing that needed forgiveness or explanation. He just pulled him closer, cradling the back of his head, letting the tremors run through him until the tears dried up. After a moment, Seregil found himself clinging to him like his life depended on it, never taking his hand from his chest, needing to feel that steady rhythm. 

And then he remembered what day it was. 

“Has it gone midnight?” he murmured into Alec’s shoulder. 

“I think so,” he heard the smile in his talímenios’ voice and realised he was thinking along the same lines. 

“Well,” his voice was still reedy around the edges but the terror of the dream was fading and he was beginning to feel like himself again, his usual crooked smile regrowing, “Happy wedding day, talí.”

Alec laughed gently, still keeping his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping house around them, though it may be too little too late after last night. And every night before, of the weeks they’d been staying here. Being betrothed had seemed to sparked some fire between Seregil’s legs that Alec was more than happy to indulge.

In just a few hours the sun would come up, warming the fields around the humble country manor house, illuminating the clearing that had been set up for their ceremony, the flower arch that Illia had been working on for the last few days under which Valerius would call them husbands in a patchwork quilt of Dlanan wedding custom and Aurenfaie marriage rites; the hay bales that would serve as seats for their few guests, arranged in neat rows by her brothers under Illia’s strict command and the space cleared for a dance afterwards. It would certainly be a lot less lavish than any party thrown in their Wheel Street house and it would count for nothing under Skalan law but it would mean everything to them. 

And as nervous as he was, those few hours still felt like far too long to wait for Alec. 

“Maybe we should have slept apart for a night,” Seregil chuckled, though his joking tone was threadbare.

“We’re hardly a traditional couple, talí,” Alec pointed out, leaning back against the pillows so Seregil could rest against his chest, “I can’t believe it would make much difference. And we’d bang heads in the middle of the hallway as we snuck into each other’s beds.” 

Seregil gave a thin laugh, “But I wouldn’t have woken you up with the same bad dream I’ve had a hundred times.” 

“Well then,” Alec combed his fingers through Seregil’s hair, teasing the knots from it, “I’m glad we’re together so I could be here for you.”

Seregil felt the tears threaten again but they were fresher this time, cleaner. He was glad to see them, glad that he could shed them in front of his talímenios with none of his old shame or need to appear stronger than he was. 

“Make love to me?” he asked softly, kissing Alec’s chest where his tears had fallen. 

“One last time before you’re stuck with me forever and the passion dies?” Alec teased, grinning as he rose to obey, rolling Seregil onto his back. 

“Naturally,” Seregil grinned, letting his legs fall open, “You are only marrying me for my money, after all.”

Alec smirked at their old joke, fuelled by the rumours running through the Noble Quarter at the sight of the ring on Alec’s finger where a blushing bride would wear hers, “And because of the baby.”

“Ah, right. The dark spawn I planted in you with forbidden Aurënen magics. I forgot.” 

“Odd thing to forget. What kind of sorcerous father are you?”

And then they were just laughing, kissing each other as their bodies moved to their familiar positions, fitting together like pieces in an exceptionally clever puzzle box, Seregil’s legs falling open and Alec’s hips moving to fill the gap, Seregil’s arms snaking around Alec’s shoulders. 

There was still slack in his muscles from the night before, a looseness that meant Alec needed to only wet his fingers slightly from the bottle on the nightstand, a few quick thrusts and he judged his talímenios ready. 

Seregil moaned as he moved into him, staying achingly slow so he’d feel every inch of the stretch. Then it was a teasily prim kiss to his forehead before Alec began to roll his hips, making certain to hit that sweet spot inside him at the apex of every thrust. Seregil rewarded him with trembles and sighs, soft, sweet cries that only drove Alec on, kindling that need inside him. 

It was the small details that took root in his mind, as things grew more frantic and wild. How Seregil’s dark hair spread across the white of the pillow, looking almost black. How his pupils inched wider and wider, more blown out with lust until he seemed almost otherworldly in his beauty. How his mouth grew more slack, the tension in the muscles of his neck, how his fingers scrabbled at the sheets when he struck those nerves inside him. 

It was over all too soon, the sudden release cascading through him, hips jerking, filling Seregil with his heat. That sensation was enough to push Seregil over that same precipice, his cry of Alec’s name high and strangled as he painted his stomach. 

Alec sighed, contentedly, sitting back, muscles going slack as the tension left. He smiled down at Seregil with a mix of smugness and tenderness. 

“Feeling better?” he asked. 

“I will when you come here,” Seregil panted, pulling him close, kissing at him with a tired messiness that only made Alec giggle. 

“Here, I’ve got you,” he grinned, returning to more or less the positions they’d occupied before they made love. He wasn’t intending to sleep again.

Seregil couldn’t have felt further from the terror of his nightmare. That pain was past and couldn’t hurt him here, anything that wanted to claim his talímenios now wouldn’t find it half so easy, be it human, faie or god. He’d put it into his vows if he had to. 

Before he slipped back into a much more restful sleep, Seregil kissed Alec’s skin where his heartbeat was now pounding a much stronger beat, lying so he could feel it against his cheek. 

It was it’s gentle, constant rhythm that brought him sweeter dreams. 

**Author's Note:**

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